


Not Afraid To Save My Heart (For You)

by PaperGirl92



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-One Direction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 03:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5114870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaperGirl92/pseuds/PaperGirl92
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Maybe one day we'll meet again, when we are slightly older and our minds less hectic, and I'll be right for you and you'll be right for me. But right now, I am chaos to your thoughts and you are poison to my heart'</p>
<p>Or,</p>
<p>Zayn isn't the type to stay, hasn't been for the longest time.<br/>So he quits, the tour, the band, his relationship with Perrie. </p>
<p>Zayn isn't the type to stay, <br/>But Liam gives him a reason to anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Afraid To Save My Heart (For You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi pals ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) This is my very first time posting a fic here so do tell me what you think !!

_[Maybe one day we’ll meet again, when we’re slightly older, our minds less hectic]_

Liam’s survival guide to having a three year-old daughter:

1\. Always remember to hold their hands when in public (because they can, and probably will, run away from you every chance that they get)

2\. Chocolates and stuffed animals are your best friends if you want to capture their attention.

3\. Never, NEVER walk past McDonalds, because they will get distracted by the promise of happy meals, free toys and impending coronary heart disease.

 

Liam makes up this list while running after his three year old daughter, Emmy, towards McDonalds and considers if it’s too late for him to write a best selling parenting novel. He reaches the front of the fast food restaurant and just as he’s about to open the glass door, he feels a warm, sturdy body collide against his back. He counts from one to five to compose himself before turning back, because there are double doors for a reason, _whatheheck,_ and –

 

‘Sorry mate, wasn’t looking where I was going’

 

And –

 

Liam spins around so fast, worries over his daughter’s whereabouts forgotten because he knows that voice, would recognize that voice from anywhere.

 

His eyes widen as he comes face to face with Zayn, his ex bestfriend-slash-bandmate Zayn, who looks _slightly_ different, Liam decides. Definitely a lot more stubble, even more than before, traces of cigarette smoke clinging to his wiry body cluttered with more tattoos than Liam can recall but undeniably still the same Zayn Liam remembers from three years ago.

 

He finally looks him straight in the eyes and notices the other man mirroring his exact same expression, laced with shock and uncertainty and something he can’t quite put his finger on.

 

‘We need to stop meeting like this,’ Liam starts, a hesitant smile across his face, hopeful towards the promise of an old inside joke to break the ice.

 

‘I know,’ Zayn chuckles, and before Liam can stop himself or even think about what he’s about to do next, he’s reaching out for the other man and wrapping his hands around him in a tight hug.

 

‘You’re still my best mate you know,’ he whispers and feels Zayn so still in his arms. He can’t help but wonder if something’s wrong, starts to doubt that old quote that says something about time healing all wounds because it’s been three years _goddammit,_ but Zayn surprises him and silences his doubts by hugging him back, resting his face on the crook of Liam’s neck.

 

‘You’re still mine too,’ Zayn replies, his words muffled by Liam’s chunky sweater, and despite the cold English winter and the thickness of his knit sweater, he feels the warmth of Zayn’s breath, and just his close proximity in general. He recollects the countless number of times they found themselves in this exact position in the past, after endless tiring performances and recurring controversies, whenever either of them felt like the world was going too fast for them to handle. He wishes to stay this way forever, to make up for lost time, or to build some sort of immunity for future use because he knows Zayn isn’t the type to stay, hasn’t been in the longest while.

 

A slight tug on the bottom of his sweater brings him back to reality and he looks down, only to find Emmy staring up at him and a face she can’t quite seem to recognize from anywhere. Liam pulls away, an apologetic smile on his face and crouches down to pick his daughter up.

 

‘Hey Emmy, I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is your Uncle Zayn, Zayn this is my daughter Emmy,’ he introduces the both of them.

 

‘He looks like Aladdin, daddy! Like a prince,’ Emmy says in fascination, reaching out for Zayn’s face to touch it, as if to make sure that he’s real. The action makes Zayn smile the shy smile Liam’s always liked and Liam has to bite off his tongue from saying a bitter _I know right, I can’t believe he’s real either_.

 

‘She looks a lot like you Liam,’ Zayn observes as he takes in the sight before him, two pairs of chocolate brown eyes staring back at him. ‘How’s it like being a dad?’ he can’t help but ask.

 

‘It’s not as difficult as I thought, I think I had a lot of practice from taking care of Harry and Louis all these years,’ Liam jokes, making the other boy laugh.

 

‘Well, I think you’re a really great father with or without the extra practice,’ Zayn admits with a small smile and they remain that way, smiling at each other with their eyes locked for what feels like eternity and suddenly Liam’s finding it difficult to look away.

 

But then Emmy breaks the spell with the words ‘Can I still have my spicy McNuggets?’ and _right_ , Liam remembers the reason why they’re in McDonalds in the first place – to feed his three-year-old daughter who definitely inherited Niall’s bottomless appetite. (Liam doesn’t quite know how that’s even remotely possible, but never actually asks, afraid of what Niall’s answer might be.)

 

‘You’re probably busy, Liam, so I think I’m just going to go,’ Zayn starts, already retreating backwards.   


‘Zayn, before you leave,’ Liam says, the word _again_ hanging loosely in the air, ‘want to meet up tonight to catch up a little? It has been a long time, after all.’

 

‘I’d like that, yeah,’ the other man replies as he walks away, and Liam can’t help but stare after his retreating figure a little longer, not quite believing what just happened.

 

 

XXX

 

 

_[But right now, I am chaos to your thoughts]_

It’s been two hours since they decided to meet up at Funky Buddha later that night, and both men find themselves doubling over in laughter over old jokes, neck deep in new stories to tell, brand new experiences and memories to share. It’s like nothing much has changed, Liam thinks, amazed at how they are able find themselves in a nostalgic scene, a familiar rhythm, can pick up exactly where they left off, like the past three years of radio silence didn’t happen.

 

‘Now tell me this, Liam Payne,’ Zayn begins, with a knowing smirk on his face, ‘why is it that we’ve been in this bar for over two hours and you haven’t ordered one alcoholic drink or looked the least bit comfortable in this place? Didn’t this bar use to be your favourite when you found out you had two perfectly functional kidneys?’

 

‘Yeah, yeah. Things are different now, Zayn. I’m no longer one-fifth, or rather, one-fourth,’ he rolls his eyes upon hearing Zayn’s loud protests, ‘of One Direction, Most Popular Boy Band On Earth. I’m a father now. I’m literally just Liam Payne: Average Guy.’

 

‘There’s absolutely nothing average about you, Liam,’ Zayn replies, and well –

 

He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, not when Zayn’s looking at him like _that_ , smiling with utmost sincerity in his eyes. Granted that it wasn’t the first time Zayn’s ever dropped such confusing comments towards him before, this was the first one Liam’s received in such a long time and it made him even more confused than ever.

 

‘Why did you leave, Zayn?’ Liam whispers, unable to hold it in anymore. ‘I woke up one day and you were just gone. Out of the tour bus, out of the band and out of my life,’

 

‘Was it because of what I said? Did that scare you? Were you disappointed, disgusted, afraid? Did you want nothing to do with me?’

 

‘Figured out this wasn’t what I wanted anymore – not the band, not the music, not Perrie or the planned wedding,’ Zayn answers, avoiding Liam’s eyes.

 

‘That’s bullshit, and you know it,’ Liam raises his voice, above the music, above the noise, ‘this has always been your dream, Zayn. Tell me the real reason why you left without so much as a goodbye.’

 

‘Because I fucking loved you, you walnut,’ Zayn screamed, his eyes welling up in tears. ‘I left because you were perfect and you’re in a perfect relationship with the perfect girl and you’re going to be the perfect dad, and I’m just your best friend who had to fuck shit up and fall in love with you when you’re so painfully straight and out of my league,’

 

‘I loved you, Liam, so fucking much it terrified me,’ Zayn whispers, his voice trembling. Immediately, he takes out a hundred pound bill, leaves it on the bar table and flees out of the club with tears in his eyes.

 

 

XXX

_[And you are poison to my heart]_

Liam recalls the beginning of the end to be a little something like this:

 

The night before had been rough, and Liam finds himself woken up to the sight of a cold and empty bed. He was sure Zayn held him close to bed last night, when he had been sobbing about having made a big mistake, about the baby spelling the end of their careers, about him already being the least liked member to begin with.

 

He clearly remembers having the other boy around, pressed up against him in the small bunk beds, and so the sight, or the lack thereof, of Zayn puzzled him a lot.

 

He thinks of going back to sleep when he hears it - a loud commotion in the lounge area of the tour bus, vaguely sounding like Niall and Louis having a disagreement.

 

He rolls his eyes and pushes off his comforter, getting up, because _this is an everyday thing, really._ Both boys bantered about everything – cereal, who was going to shower next, who got to cuddle with Harry first, they were always arguing about stupid things, that’s just how friendships in his band worked.

 

He ambles groggily to the lounge, remnants of sleep still left in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he opens the door to the lounge and prepares himself and his Disappointed Father Face to the expected sight of both boys tackling each other on the floor, Harry cheering on whoever he wanted to cuddle with that day and Zayn sitting on his favourite arm chair, with Half Blood Prince in hand, disconnected from the scene all around him.

 

Liam wishes that’s what he sees next.

Instead, he’s met with the sight of a teary eyed Harry standing in between Louis and Niall who were both yelling at each other, without a trace of the Bradford boy.

 

‘What’s going on here? Where’s Zayn?’ he questions, with his authoritative voice intact, pulling Niall away and holding him back from attacking Louis.

 

‘He fucking left us Li, just like I told all of you he would,’ Louis spits, tone of resentment and hatred evident in his voice. “And here you all are, defending him.’

 

‘What are you even talking about, Lou?’ Liam clarifies, confused.

 

‘He quit the tour, left the band, called it quits, he’s resigned, he’s gone,’ Louis replies, laughing bitterly. ‘He’s quit just because he can’t handle seeing you be happy with someone else.’

 

‘That’s not true!’ Niall screams, retaliating against Liam’s hold on him ‘He’s coming back and you know it. We’re his brothers, he can’t just leave.’

 

‘Well apparently he can, because he just did, so better get used to it,’ Louis says, shaking his head in resignation, storming out of the room.

 

‘Please fix it Li, please fix this, it’s what you do,’ Harry begs, speaking up for the first time.

 

But Liam can’t find it in himself to move, remains rooted to spot with the words _he’s gone he’s gone he’s gone_ on repeat in his mind, like a mantra. He searches his memory of last night – for any form of sign the other boy made implying his unhappiness or sadness, any semblance of foreshadowing, or ominous words or statements dropped, but to no avail.

 

Instead, all he finds in his memory bank is the image of the other boy wrapping his hands over him, in an attempt to calm him down from his outburst, his soothing words, pulling Liam together because that’s what he does best.

 

He picks up his phone and with shaky fingers, he dials Zayn’s phone number, because it can’t be true. He’s probably gone to buy a new packet of cigarettes or to a nearby café to continue reading his favourite Harry Potter book. He can’t be gone, Liam decides. It rings once, twice, three times, and the phone lines goes dead, and just like that, Liam’s heart breaks a little.

 

‘He’s probably just gone out to get some coffee, he’ll be back,’ he hears himself saying, not quite knowing who exactly he’s trying to convince.

 

‘He’ll be back, and I’ll be the first one he’ll see when he does’ he whispers, determinedly, making his way to the front of the bus to wait for Zayn’s return.

 

Only, he never actually did.

 

 

XXX

 

 

_[Maybe one day we’ll meet again, and I’ll be right for you]_

Something pulls him out of his reverie, perhaps the loud music, or the third person who’s bumped into him today, but Liam finds himself back in the present, jaw slack and still very much void of Zayn’s presence.

 

Thousands of thoughts are pooling at the back of his mind, with ninety percent of them taking up the form of question marks because, _because what the fuck actually just happened?_

He picks himself up from the barstool and rushes to find out where Zayn’s gone, searches everywhere in the bar, pushing past the mass of sweaty bodies on the dance floor and out of the bar. He looks and looks and looks, asking people around, breathless and manic.

 

And almost as if it’s deja vu, he feels like he’s lost Zayn the second time around.

 

He calls Zayn, and almost instantly. It doesn’t even ring, goes immediately to voicemail and this angers a part of Liam inexplicably.

 

‘Listen Zayn, you can’t just say shit like that and leave me hanging okay?’ he cries into the phone. ‘There are so many fucking things you make me do, Malik. I’m always running after you, always trying to keep up with you, understand you and I can never seem to stop loving you,’

 

‘Not since the very first day we met in McDonalds, not since boot camp, or when you introduced me to Jay Z for the very first time. Not since our first tour, when I thought I’d been in love with others, before I even knew how I felt. I’ve always been in love with you too. But you can’t just keep leaving, Zayn, I think I’m worth more than that.’

 

He clicks the phone shut, a newfound feeling of numbness creeping into his chest and walks home, to Emmy, the only source of constancy he knows.

 

 

XXX

_[And you’ll be right for me]_

‘I’ll be right there, Nialler,’ Liam says into the phone as he runs towards his seven year old daughter’s classroom. ‘I’m just gonna pick Emmy up from detention, she’s gotten in trouble already and it’s only her first day of school _what the heck.’_

 

He hangs up and runs past the sea of first graders, hoping not to injure anyone. He can’t quite believe his daughter’s been caught saying the F word already, at the tender age of seven. _I’m going to kill Louis,_ he thinks, shaking his head at the thought of his best friend being such a terrible example to his daughter.

 

He reaches the classroom 5-23 and with his best I-Swear-I’m-A-Good-Father face, he opens the door with the words ‘I am so sorry she doesn’t actually curse regularly she just picked it up from my friend Louis when he stubbed his toe against our kitchen counter, I swear I am a decent father,’ out of his mouth in just one breath.

 

He hears it before he sees him, a quiet chuckle and a very familiar voice saying ‘That does sound a lot like Louis, mate.’

 

Liam searches the source of the voice, and true enough, it’s Zayn he sees. He takes the sight of him in – all of it. His raven hair in its signature quiff, a white button down with some of his tattoos peeking out, black rimmed glasses sitting atop of his slender nose. It’s been years and he still manages to take Liam’s breath away.

 

‘I’m really sorry, daddy,’ Emmy breaks the silence, sporting the puppy dog face she’s learnt from Liam. ‘I already told Mr Malik it isn’t your fault though.’

 

‘Em, why don’t you go to the playground and play for a bit while I talk to your father?’ Zayn suggests, his eyes still trained on Liam’s.

 

‘Hey –‘

 

‘Hi -,’ they both begin once Emmy’s left, cutting each other off.

 

‘I, uh, didn’t know you’re teaching now,’ Liam continues, trying to get ahold of the situation at hand. Zayn was his daughter’s teacher, _is this even real life right now._ He’s teaching his daughter and he looks _so fucking good although it’s been years._

‘Yeah, I am actually,’ the other man replies. ‘Thought of fixing my life and putting back the pieces and I realized I’ve always wanted to teach, so here I am.’

 

‘That’s really uh, great,’ Liam responds, ‘how’s that working out for you?’ He winces at his awkwardness and choice of words because, _really Liam really?_

 

‘Fine actually,’ Zayn answers, with a shy smile, ‘although there is one piece of the puzzle I’ve been searching for, for so long     I thought I’d lost it forever.’

 

‘I’m really sorry for leaving, Li,’ he continues, walking towards Liam. ‘I’ve been a fucking coward this whole time and I’ve lost you twice but they say third time’s a charm and I’m not willing to let go of you again.’

 

‘Can we start over?’ he whispers, reaching out for Liam’s hands.

 

And Liam looks at him, at all of him, he weighs out all of the pros and cons, the risks to take and realizes he finds none. Or at least, none that really mattered enough to stop him from saying,

 

‘You’re so stupid, Zayn. Do you actually think you still need to ask?’ as he leans in, caution into the wind, and into the home he’s always known. 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Don't actually know if Zayn's favourite Harry Potter book is Half Blood Prince tbh, but hope you enjoyed it nonetheless


End file.
